Dek Unu Magazine
September, 2024 -
ek
nu
Magazine
© Dek Unu Arts, 2024
Eleven
This is Dek Unu Magazine. \n Esperanto, dek unu means “eleven.” Eleven images from a single artist. Eleven
artists in eleven solo issues in each publication year. Dek Unu publishes the work of a new artist-photographer in
each issue. The artist's work and words are featured in individual focus as the sole purpose for each issue of the
magazine. Unlike other arts and letters magazines which might look for work from a variety of artists to support
an editorial staff's theme, at Dek Unu, theme and imagery are always each artist's own.
This Month
Photographs of artists are an interesting sub-genre of portraiture. Sometimes,
their portraits surprise for being non-descript — the famous photo of Breton,
Dali, and those other surrealists in suits and ties looks much like a meeting of
salesmen with no hint of the space travelers they were. But, more often,
particularly when artists photograph other artists, there’s something uniquely
revealing. The famous Avedon photo of Lee Friedlander highlights Friedlander’s
“street” persona and his stunningly pale eyes — the eyes that found art in TV
screens, road signs, and his own shadow. The Judy Dater environmental portrait
of Imogen Cunningham “discovering” the naked Twinka behind a tree is a classic
example of high-creatives’ imagining a portrait as performance art. The best
photos of artists by artists picture the sitter, the photographer, the creative dialog
between them, and hint at the mysterious process by which artists decide what
“works.”
This month, artist-photographer Artur Bolzhurov shares images from a years-
long series of “psychological portraits” of artists — painters, photographers, a
sculptor — from his native Kyrgyzstan. Mocking the idea of the conventional,
flattering portrait, but undertaken with the same technical care and commitment
as Bolzhurov’s commercial studio work, these character studies have a very
sharp edge. Each of these portraits lives on the border between humorous and
disconcerting; each revels in irony. Think of them as passport photos, useful for
somewhat turbulent flights to fantasyland, where it’s the artists who make all the
rules. Some are fun and funny - there’s a military officer with an alligator on his
shoulder. Some are dark and disturbing — there’s a military officer with an
alligator on his shoulder! All are provocative, all are both foreign and familiar.
All of them confirm George Braque’s point, “In art there is only one thing that
counts: the bit that cannot be explained.” >
| found myself in the studio of this artist on assignment from the editorial office of a glossy
magazine. The journalist interviewed Peter; | took standard photographic portraits. Then |
went into an old bathroom to wash my hands, leaned over the sink, and when | looked up,
instead of a mirror | saw a glass window and a storage room behind it. For a few seconds,
my brain froze, like a computer operating system freezes. When | came to my senses, |
realized that | needed to make a portrait of the artist in this particular bathroom.
A few days later | came to the studio again. With Peter, we began to think up the final
image. He showed me various objects. One of them was a wooden horn someone had
given to him. We decided that in the photo he would hold it in his mouth and stick it out
of the window opening.
| came to the shoot with a studio flash and other necessary equipment. | set up the light
so that a strange shadow would be cast by the artist, like some kind of animal. But |
installed a softbox without diffusers and the shadow turned out to be without clear edges.
| should have put a plate on the flash and the shadow would have been hard. | still regret
it a little to this day. But the portrait of the artist came together. Although it’s unusual for
human portraits, | used a wide-angle lens. Peter is a strange man, a strange artist, he loves
surrealism. So | decided to make his image not look like a human being.
Peter Kurinskikh. The artist. 2008.
Adis Seitaliev was my class teacher at art school. He paints paintings in the style of abstraction.
In the yard of his studio, there was a bus painted in graffiti. | decided to use it for a portrait. We
took pictures on the bus hood and in the driver's cabin. But | wouldn't say | liked the result.
There were boxes and a papier-maché mannequin in the interior of the bus. They were left
over from some artists' workshop. We put the scattered boxes in order and my assistant
climbed onto the roof of the bus and aimed the flash at the manhole cover. Adis stood with
a headless mannequin in the back of the bus and everything worked out.
Here, too, a wide-angle lens is used to show the space.
Adis Seitaliev. The artist. 2008.
| had photographed this sculptor's work and was on good terms with him. | suggested that
Victor put white paint or white powder on his head to blend in with his sculptures in the
photo. But he rejected the idea.
| liked the posthumous masks of Russian and Soviet writers and poets (Lermontov, Gorkiy,
Pushkin, Esenin, Mayakovskiy) that hung on the wall of his studio.
During the shooting, | used two flashes. One was directed at the sculptor and the second
one was on the floor behind him and shined upwards on the masks. The final photo was
helped by the beret on the artist's head and his stern gaze.
Viktor Shestopal. The sculptor. 2009.
Tue Sted
In 2009, | flew to Moscow to participate in an exhibition of contemporary art. | decided to
make a portrait of my schoolmate Adilet on the occasion of his graduating from the
V. |. Surikov Art Institute. There was no ready-made idea. We met at the institute and |
visited his studio. He was beginning to paint his diploma work. | liked his large palette. |
realized that it was necessary to use these two objects as elements of composition.
A few days later, the diploma picture was painted even clearer and more vividly. | struggled
with the portrait for a long time. | could not expressively combine the artist, the palette,
and the painting into a harmonious composition. All variants looked bad. After many
unsuccessful attempts, | remembered what makes a successful landscape photograph:
foreground, middle and background. So | decided to apply this principle to a portrait. |
placed the palette in the foreground, the artist in the middle ground, and the painting in
the far ground. | stood on a chair and the puzzle came together. My assistant helped me
by directing the flash at different parts of the ceiling.
Adilet Davletov. The artist. 2009.
At that time, | was leading an art group made up of my friends. We participated in contem-
porary art exhibitions. It was a pampering activity for us and we did it for fun. Contemporary
art events were encouraged in our country at that time. Our creative group was selected to
participate in one big project. For it, all participants had to create a work. The curator of the
exhibition gave us an idea. It remained to realize it competently.
We gathered in a new photo studio. At first, the light scheme | had set up did not give a
good result. So | decided to leave only one light source behind our backs. This single flash
gave a backlight, and illuminated the plastic bags on our heads, the contours of our
shoulders, and the dust particles that flew in the air. We took turns standing in front of the
camera. There is a portrait of me in the triptych.
Z.A.D. group. The artists of contemporary art. 2009.
This portrait was inspired by the work of an American photographer. It showed an athletic
man climbing out of a manhole.
| found a manhole in the yard of our "City of Artists." | painted the door next to the man-
hole with black paint. After a couple of weeks, it was covered in dirt and dust, and | could
shoot.
| had originally planned to use a papier-maché mannequin. Kerimbek stuck out of the
hatch and the mannequin stood next to him with its legs up. But this prop turned out to
be unsuitable for photography. | didn't know what to do. And then a worker who was
helping us on the set suggested pouring water from a hose on the artist. Kerimbek didn't
mind. | set up a second flash behind the artist's back to illuminate the water jet. The
conditions for the poser were very difficult. It was not easy for him to stand on the iron
ladder inside the hatch, and he was bitten by some insects. But he withstood everything
and did not complain about anything.
Kerimbek Bukar. The artist. 2010.
This is my teacher at secondary school. He taught us lessons in physical education and
military science. He was a kind and favorite teacher. He was also my father's buddy.
Janysh practiced photography as an amateur. | used to visit his studio together with my
father.
During my student years, there was a high-profile case. He was accused of producing
pornography and imprisoned. But he got out early as mentally insane.
After his release, he went back to teaching in schools. Later | learned that he had the
military rank of senior lieutenant of aviation.
Dzhanysh also worked part-time as a photographer in the central square. He photographed
people who were holding his dried alligator. | really liked his props.
At first, the composition of the portrait was different, but it was not expressive. Through
trial and error, we found a successful version where he is holding the alligator on his
shoulders.
| recorded the photos of each of the artists in this series on a disk and everyone else was
pleased to receive their portraits. But Janysh didn't care. He wasn't interested in the end
result and didn't even want to look at the files. It was funny and unusual. In the end, |
almost forcefully handed him a disk with his photos. But he probably didn't even want to
open it and look at it.
Janysh Baetov. The photographer, Senior lieutenant of aviation. 2011.
This artist is German by nationality. Very smart and cool artist. His character is strict, and
complex. He may not talk to a person he knows. Even in his studio, he's silent. It's embar-
rassing. But | know he doesn't think anything bad of his guests.
At that time, | returned from studying in Moscow and brought with me a motorcycle
helmet in the form of a military helmet of German soldiers. | rode a motorcycle and wore
it.
| suggested that Valery wear it for the portrait. He agreed and brought a military uniform
to the shooting. He really liked wearing the helmet. Even during the rest between takes,
he didn't take it off.
For this portrait, | used six flashes. | had to get the white highlights right and create a
graphic photograph. Technically one of the most difficult jobs.
Valeriy Ruppel. The artist. 2071.
Once during a walk, | went into a building under construction. In one of the rooms | saw
plastic pipes lying on the floor. | realized that the artist Konstantin Shkurpela should be
filmed using these props. He himself assembles various tools and objects into his paintings:
saws, hammers, rulers, pieces of iron, and wood.
| brought three flashes to the shooting location to light up the artist and the background
to make it completely white. | planned for the character to move his arms up, down,
sideways. | wanted him to look like a man with tentacle arms. But such an effect did not
work in reality. Then Konstantin just stood up straight and the portrait turned out.
During the photo session, the artist retold me the whole Bible. It was interesting to listen
to him.
Konstantin Shkurpela. The artist. 2071.
, fc
2 ( “7,
(Cu :
ay yrs
tH
yy)
A
%
Ca
Ca
e
E
A
e
E
E
E
z
z
A
s\
au((
= N\
NY
€
EG
w
AG
WN)
The original idea was different. To use multiple pairs of glasses. But that didn't work.
| asked Shailo to take turns wearing different glasses. | noticed that one pair clearly
reflected a portrait plate wearing a flash. The reflection of the plate was used as the
pupils of the eyes. The difficulty was to align the reflection of the center plate deflector
exactly on both pupils of the portrait subject. | had to do a lot of takes. But this is a
common practice for me.
Shailo doesn't take photos in the studio himself and he was very interested to see how
studio shooting is done.
Shailo Dzhekshenbaev. The photographer. 2014.
This portrait was made after the 8-year break in the series.
A few years ago, | saw a boy in the village who wore a camera strap not around his neck,
but on his head. It reminded me of the payos of the Jews. | had an image for the portrait
and nurtured the idea until February 2023.
| suggested that | make a portrait of a famous local photographer, Alimzhan Dzhorobaev,
in a similar hat and Alimzhan agreed.
The hat, a rental, was a regular hat, not Jewish. At first, we used Alimzhan's personal
rectangular-shaped glasses. But with them, the image turned out incomprehensible and
inaccurate. We went and bought round-rimmed glasses. | changed the shape of the hat
in Photoshop and the portrait turned out the way | wanted.
Alimzhan Dzhorobaev. The photographer. 2023.
FUJIFILM
i
Artist Interview - Artur Bolzhurov
It looks like you began your working life in the family
business. Your father was a photographer.
I never thought I would become a photographer. I liked
flipping through photography magazines because they had
beautiful people in them. When I was a little boy, I
remember my father developing negatives in the
bathroom of our apartment. Later he became the head of
the darkroom at his place of work. I would sometimes go
there and watch the birth of a photograph on paper. After
SS
Artur Bolzhurov
five years of studying philology at university, I didn't want
to work in my specialty. My university program lacked
creativity. I started helping my father. I was his errand
boy. I processed his photos. And soon I got a job as a
photographer at the Museum of Fine Arts. My father was
given a second digital camera. It became mine. And I
started taking pictures.
What was it like to work with your father? For many of us
that would mean endless conflict.
My father is an intelligent and gentle man. When he gave
me knowledge, he did it carefully. He is an artist by
profession. He is friends with many creative people. I was
familiar with this bohemian environment from childhood.
Of course, my father taught me a lot of things. The basics of
photography, and then more. Helping him in his work was
easy and interesting for me. The photographic life was to
my liking.
You grew up in Kyrgyzstan at an "interesting" historical
moment.
I was born, and still live very happily, in Bishtek, the
capital of Kyrgyzstan. I remember the Soviet Union, its last
years. The time after the collapse of the USSR is considered
very difficult. But my childhood and youth fell in this
decade, so it remains in my memory as the best time in my
life. I had everything usual, like all children, and I grew up
a happy child. Talented in some ways. In addition to high
school, I went to art school and, for a long time, I practiced
taekwon-do. In my teenage years, I was fond of guitar.
During my university years, I played in musical groups.
Talk about your formal photo training. Your work is so well
seen and well-made. How did you get to be so good?
It is known that in art and real creativity, learning never
ends. There is no specialized education as a photographer
in our country. All photographers were self-taught in some
way. At least up through the early 2000s. But I graduated
from art school with honors: drawing, painting, composition,
and modeling, and those skills transferred easily to
photography. Starting with books from my father's library
when I was young, I acquired my visual acumen by
reading photo magazines and photo books, looking at
photo albums, and visiting exhibitions. My idols were the
world's photographers. I read and collected issues of the
Russian magazine Foto&Video. Thanks to it, I grew as a
photographer. I learned about world photography and
iconic photographers and I wanted to make high-level
work myself.
I looked for old issues of Vogue magazine on newsstands
all over the city and bought them at a low price. At home, I
scrutinized advertising and fashion photos. I analyzed the
light by the shadows on the faces and the glare in the eyes
of the models. From the very beginning, I liked fashion
photography. Simply because there were beautiful girls out
there. I remember at university I could watch Fashion TV
for hours. It really pissed off my classmates. It was the era
of supermodels back then. Or at least that era wasn't over
yet. Again with the help of my father and by the will of
fate, I almost immediately started taking pictures for a
glossy magazine and a modeling agency. And soon I
enrolled in and graduated from modeling school myself. I
was interested in what guys and girls go through during
their training. It was a very interesting experience.
You grew up with digital technology. Is there film in any of
your cameras? A wet darkroom in your shop?
I started photography at the end of 2004. Digital
photography had already “beaten” film photography. From
working with my father, I was familiar with both analog
and digital photography, but I'm a photographer of a
different era. I'm a photographer, not a photo processor. I
don't do much manipulation. I try to take pictures in such
a way that I don't need to process them for a long time. I
develop RAW files in Canon's own programs, then correct
them in Photoshop.
Importantly, though, I studied at the All-Russian State
University of Cinematography in Moscow. In the first year,
we were taught black-and-white photography. Our teacher
was an old photographer, a very great master. We students
took pictures on black-and-white film, developed it
ourselves, and printed it on expired photo paper. The
cinema film was not suitable for photographs, and the
paper we were given was not of the best quality. All of
these factors kept me from falling in love with the analog
process. But I remember the fascination of the first printed
photo, when the image appears on white paper. What had
an even greater effect on me was a piece of positive film
inserted into the editing machine. I turned on the film
scrolling and people came to life on the machine's display.
It was like magic.
“Artists of Kyrgyzstan" isn't traditional fashion or studio
portrait photography. Where did the idea come from?
Shooting models for magazines was limited by the format
of the publication. I couldn't do what I wanted to do. It was
this dissatisfaction that gave me the impetus to start a
series of portraits of artists. I started the project in 2008.
I create portraits of people of creative professions:
painters, sculptors, designers, photographers (the series
also includes my self-portraits). I choose those whom I
know personally, whom I like, and who agreed to pose to
help realize ideas.
ie Ne
In artist portraits, I did things I couldn't do in fashion
photography. But I applied the principles of glossy
photography: flash light and high-quality images, posing
models. I can't say exactly why I did it. This series is not
commercial. It didn't make me any money. I spent my
resources on making portraits. But I felt an inner need
to do it. Several works from this series were published
in various international publications and have been
included in exhibitions abroad.
Where do good ideas come from?
There are several sources for my photography ideas. The
first is brainstorming. This requires a group of people or
at least a second person. We just voice what comes into
our heads, complement each other, and a final idea is
formed. But more often I come up with the plot of the
photos myself. The idea arises that we need to make a
portrait of some person. I think about it for a while, and
then I forget and send the request to my subconscious.
And after a while, as if someone turns on the light in the
room, a clear idea comes into my head. It also happens
that I see something interesting: a situation in real life,
someone's photo, a painting, and instantly interpret it for
my work. In the creation of portraits of artists, sometimes
the models themselves participate. They offer their ideas,
tell stories, perhaps show some objects. But this is less
effective in my work. It is important for me to feel the
person, to tune in to my inner feelings about him. I have
always liked irony and self-irony. I love people's jokes and
silliness. I would like to always have something funny to
tell. That's why I sympathize with silly people. Stupidity
can give birth to something original and therefore
paradoxical. Stupidity makes a person funny. Stupidity
can be attractive if it is charming.
What helps your creativity? Late nights? Early mornings?
Exercise? Meditation? Coffee? Tequila?
I don't drink coffee or alcohol. Ideas usually come
during the day while doing chores. Also before bedtime.
Not infrequently in the bathroom. In general, in
moments of maximum psychological immersion in my
thoughts.
The fact that I started practicing tae kwon-do as a child
helps me in life and in my creative work. Sports, especially
martial arts, disciplines a person. I can't say that I am
100% self-disciplined. But every day I try to do necessary
and useful things to develop myself as a photographer.
Sometimes it's hard. You get discouraged, you want to be
lazy. In creativity, it is important to catch the rhythm. To
create work regularly and often.
I'm very demanding about the quality of my photos. I wish
I could do them faster. But it's important to me that the
picture looks perfect. That's why the shoots last several
hours. And the models get very tired on them. I don't get to
the realization of ideas right away. I have a big notebook
in which I write down and draw ideas for shoots. I do that
so I don't forget them. It's impossible to keep everything in
my head. I'm often lazy. It prevents me from realizing
things more quickly.
To look for originality, not to mention perfection, is to invite
failures. How do you handle experiments that do not work?
There has never been a "failure" in my practice. Often
after the shoot, when viewing the footage, I notice some
small mistakes and details in the photos realize that it was
possible to do something better on the set: to correct the
location of the light source, to turn the model's head a little
to the other side, to use another prop, etc. But I can't call
such moments failures.
At the end of 2014, I abandoned the "Artists of Kyrzyzstan"
project. I was frustrated and burned out. Artists are not
celebrities or popular personalities; they are known only by
a specific circle of people. Accordingly, their portraits don't
get a lot of reactions on social media. But in early 2023, I
took up this photo series again. I had finished working as a
staff photographer at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. And I
felt the need to re-create portraits — photographs that I,
myself, would enjoy. Making creative photographs over the
long haul is not easy. You need strength, energy, motivation,
self-discipline.
There's a well-known maxim: "If you find a path with no
obstacles, it probably doesn't lead anywhere." Agreed?
Difficulties during a shoot arise often. When the idea and
vision of a future portrait appears, realization seems easy. I
know how to set the light to achieve the right result. But
almost always on set at the beginning of the shoot, things
don't work out very well. Even simple light schemes work
worse than I imagined. And I have to look for a better
solution: change the location of flashes, their number, use
other nozzles. And at some point, everything comes
together and works. It's as if God rewards persistence and
diligence. It seems to me as if the shooting material resists
at first. But if the photographer doesn't give up and
perseveres, the material obeys the artist. Like a potter
finding the right approach to a piece of clay to make a
beautiful jug. There is always a struggle between the
material and the creator. The creator must prove that he is
stronger than the material. And then the material
succumbs to the hands of the artist and the work is
produced. This victory and the perfect result is like a
mental orgasm. I feel something like that every time I get
exactly what I saw in my imagination on set.
When you describe this highly ironic series to someone
who's not familiar, what do you say?
These are "conceptual psychological portraits." Each one
tells about the character of the depicted person, refers to
his past or present. In these portraits, there is always a
trick, a joke. Something that can't happen in real life. But,
beyond that much description, it is better not to talk about
the photos, but to look at them. Nowadays, there is no
problem in quickly and promptly showing your work if it
is uploaded to your smartphone. That's what I do. I can
easily show my photos on my phone to a new person. I
don't like to talk about them much. Regarding portraits, I
can only briefly tell the story of their creation. The end
viewer doesn't care how this or that photograph was made,
he sees and feels only the result. And I work for this result.
Photography is not literature.
Are you part of a community of creatives? Is there a trusted
friend or group whose advice is worthwhile or sustaining?
I mentioned that, at the beginning of my career, I ran a
group called Z.A.D. My friends were in it. We were
involved in contemporary art. We were successful; several
times we were invited abroad to participate in exhibitions
and we were published in the press. But for me, it was an
activity far from photography, so I treated it just as a
hangout with friends. Later, I wanted to create a group of
two or three photographers to work on projects together.
But no one supported my initiative. Creative people are
usually loners. It's difficult for them to get along with
someone else in the same kitchen.
Sometimes I ask my father and fellow photographers about
their impressions of my new work. But I always already
know where some mistake was made in the work, what
could have been done better. The opinion of an outside
expert is very important. I have received useful feedback
from my colleagues and every time I had to ask them for
their opinion. Creative people don't usually express their
attitude to other people's work without being asked.
Unfortunately, we have lost the practice of collective
discussion of work and constructive criticism. Most people
have become vulnerable.
Does "finished" mean "printed"? Is electronic publication a
significant part of your practice?
For many years now, getting digital files has been enough
for commercial shoot customers. That's why I rarely
print photos. Only for exhibitions. I wish I could do it more
often. A printed photograph has a different impact on the
viewer and on the author. Sometimes a good photo on a
computer monitor screen becomes mediocre when
printed. That is why it is better to check the level of your
work in the form of prints. Social networks now play a
major and decisive role in my work. It's a platform for
demonstrating my work and getting orders for shoots.
Artists are often skilled critics. What do you look for in new
work you encounter? What do you like? What do you avoid?
I want to get high from looking at the pictures. It's fine art.
It's good when it pleases the eye and the brain. I like
aesthetically pleasing photography. I get pleasure from
quality work. If I see mistakes in other people's work, I get
frustrated and don't enjoy it. I'd rather avoid boring photos
with long texts. An image has to be self-contained. I knew
a photographer who made ordinary cards but added a big
story to each one, wanting to convince the viewer of its
uniqueness. I am not close to this approach.
There's a lot of heat and light about Artificial Intelligence
among photographers lately. What's your take on it?
I tried a little bit to create photos with artificial
intelligence programs. I was interested in realizing some
utopian ideas. But it is a complicated process and long. It is
necessary to learn how to work with AI. It's easier and
more enjoyable for me to take photos. And more honest.
I'm a photographer, not a computer handler. Hopefully
artificial intelligence won't come in handy in my practice.
What's in your future? A book? A show? Travel?
I've traveled to several countries around the world for work.
Away from your homeland, you feel and think differently.
You miss your home, your parents, your friends, ordinary
things. You appreciate what you did not appreciate in the
past. And you want to do new creative projects. It is easier
in my homeland: I have connections, knowledge of my
native language, and the support of loved ones. At least for
now, I want to take a lot of pictures and make a lot of
money. Preferably in the genres I like. Individual portraits
come first.
Links to More
https://www.instagram.com/photo.art.kg/
https://www.facebook.com/artur.bolzhurov
Visit www.magcloud.com to buy
this issue of Dek Unu in
paperback. Full color, 40
pages, perfect-bound in gloss
cover stock. Paperback sales
support the artists and the
continuing mission of the
Artists ofsKyngyzstan magazine.
Artur. Bolzhuroy
Print sales support the artists and
keep Dek Unu advertising-free.
https://www.dekunumag.com
httos://www.dekunuarts.com
Dek Unu Magazine, a division of Dek Unu Arts, publishes and promotes fine art photography
as a not-for-profit entity located at 1618 San Silvestro Drive, Venice, Florida, United States of
America. Dek Unu Magazine, ©2018 - 2024 Dek Unu Arts, all rights reserved. Unless noted
copyrights for included images are owned by the artists and used by permission.
Dek Unu Magazine publishes eleven monthly editions online at https://www.dekunumag.com
and in print on demand through Magcloud, a division of Blurb, Inc. Please see guidelines for
submissions at https://www.dekunumag.com/submit and direct questions regarding the publi-
cation process to dekunumag@gmail.com. Other correspondence: dekunuarts@gmail.com.
Dek Unu
Arts
www.dekunumag.com
©2024 Venice, Florida
All Rights Reserved